


Untitled

by blue_jack



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-04
Updated: 2010-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/pseuds/blue_jack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>H/C for <a href="http://caitri.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://caitri.livejournal.com/"></a><b>caitri</b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

Jim is just staring at his hands, shoulders slumped, back curved, stares but never seems to find what he’s looking for. He won’t talk about it. Leonard doesn’t even know what happened. He’s thought about asking Spock, and maybe he will later, but he’s more concerned now with staying with Jim. Even if Jim doesn’t notice he’s there.

“Jim, I . . .” He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to fix it, can’t even offer the usual platitudes that are always inadequate and never do a lick of good but at least show he’s willing to listen, can't because he’s working in a damn _vacuum_ , and he doesn’t know what to do with this Jim who’s so . . .

He’s so quiet. And he’s shutting Leonard out.

Leonard’s never had that glib and golden tongue of Jim’s, never will and to be honest, has cultivated just the opposite. He’s shamefully proud of the fact that an ensign he treated actually turned beet red and _walked the other way_ when he saw Leonard coming down the hall. Shameful because he doesn’t want that ensign to avoid Sickbay if he needs help. Proud because stupidity like that should never be encouraged.

But while his is a talent that has its benefits, it’s not very helpful in a situation like this.

Leonard hates feeling so damn useless.

“Can I—can I do anything?” he asks, manages to keep the grimace off his face because, _what the hell_? _That_ was the best he could come up with?

Jim’s eyes come up for a brief moment, flick back down, but at least it’s a reaction. At least it’s _something_.

No, he’s never had Jim’s ability to say the right words in the wrong situation, but fuck it. Words aren’t everything.

Jim doesn’t shy away when Leonard settles onto the bed behind him, tenses but allows Leonard wrap his arms around him. He keeps his hold light, doesn’t try to force Jim to respond or trap him in place, simply lets him know that he’s there, just like he’s always been.

He doesn’t keep track of the minutes they sit like that, kind of drifts and soaks up the smell and warmth that is Jim, gives his own warmth back to him. He sighs softly when Jim starts to gradually relax against him, resting more and more of his weight on Leonard until he has to shift to keep them both upright, but that’s okay. He’s just relieved that Jim’s willing to lean on him.

The first kiss surprises him, soft against his jaw, tentative in a way that Jim never is, and he doesn’t even have time to return it before the next one, barely manages to keep up for the third when Jim twists in his arms, lunging and capturing his mouth like he’s trying to get away. Not that he ever would.

It’s all fast and wet after that, sloppy, biting kisses, like Jim is too frantic to get it quite right, like he needs _now_ and _here_ and more and more and _more_. His passion rolls Leonard under until he can’t breathe, until he can’t support himself let alone the two of them, and they fall back on the bed, hands shoving at clothes just enough so their cocks can press against each other, and damn the rest of it.

He glances at Jim, chest heaving as he thrusts down and Jim rises up to meet him, and he hates that distant look in his eyes that tells him that wherever Jim is right now, it’s not with him. Leonard won’t have that, won’t let Jim keep _shutting him out_ , and he stops moving, ignores the way Jim curses and strains upward, ignores the way his body insists that everything can be sorted out later.

“Look at me!” he growls, grabs Jim’s chin and wrenches his face up so he can’t turn away, so he fucking _sees_ Leonard and not whatever else it is playing over and over again in his head. There’s an almost audible _click_ as Jim finally focuses on him, glares up at him, snarling, and is seconds away from heaving Leonard off of him—

“I’m here,” Leonard says, his voice hoarse, and he realizes his fingers are still digging into Jim’s jaw, and he loosens them until they tremble against his skin. “I’m right here.”

Jim flinches, his shoulders hunching up defensively, looks for a second like he wants to sink back into the mattress and away from him, but then—

“Shit.” Jim closes his eyes, and Leonard would worry it’s a rejection if Jim’s hands weren’t clutching him so tightly. “I know you are, Bones. Fuck, I know.”

He lowers his head, and the next kiss doesn’t carry that same edge of desperation that’s overshadowed all the ones before, and when Leonard raises his head, Jim is right there with him.

“Lube,” Jim gasps, buries his teeth in Leonard’s collarbone until Leonard hisses, his hips grinding down harder than he should but still not hard enough. He doesn’t protest or question, doesn’t say they shouldn’t or lie that he doesn’t want to. He might need it even more than Jim does at that moment, could never explain out loud what it does to him when Jim pulls away because of an argument or because he just won’t fucking _confide_ in Leonard, like Jim really believes he can and should handle it alone. It’s not that Leonard doesn’t believe Jim could. It’s that Jim shouldn’t have to, and he’s there, Leonard’s fucking _there_ , and he wants whatever Jim is willing to give him, wants _more_ than that, has never wanted anything or anyone more than he wants Jim.

Jim’s already out of his pants by the time Leonard turns around with the lube, spreads his knees and reaches for him, and Leonard can’t get back to him fast enough.

One finger, two. Then it’s just muffled groans and heat, Jim’s arms and legs holding him tight, each puff of air against his neck a promise as Jim says his name over and over again. Leonard buries his head against Jim's shoulder, grits his teeth against the pleasure that's growing in leaps and bounds as he thrusts into Jim's body, never as deep as he wants because Jim won't let him up far enough to get the best angle, so he keeps trying, listens to each gasp and moan with his eyes clenched tight and his fingers digging into Jim's hips like he's staking his claim.

He realizes he's whispering something, he doesn't know what, can't hear it over the roar of blood in his ears and should know better than to say anything because words always get him in trouble. But maybe it's alright this time because Jim shudders under him, pulls him closer, turns his head and nearly breaks Leonard when he says, "Me, too. Me, too, Bones. I love you, love you so fucking much—"

Leonard comes with a wild cry, orgasm abrupt and overwhelming. His hips thrust uncontrollably—never enough, it won't ever be enough--and he lets out a grateful moan when he hears Jim follow him under as the pleasure fills and hollows him out, because he doesn't know that he could let go of Jim right now, doesn't even want to try.

He lifts up just the bare minimum to withdraw slowly from Jim and rolls them to their sides, keeps his face hidden the whole time not because he doesn't want to see Jim's expression but because he's afraid to show Jim his, wrecked and so very exposed. He feels Jim's hands stroking his back soothingly, comforting _him_ of all things, and he snorts, shaking his head, settles back into his skin with this new knowledge and wonders why nothing feels different.

"He . . . he fell," Jim says softly then, and Leonard doesn't make a sound, doesn't care about the bruises he's going to have later from the way Jim is grabbing his arms. "I—I couldn't . . . I thought I could, but there wasn't . . . I almost—I almost got him, Bones, I almost—I touched his hand and he—"

He doesn't know what to say, never has, so he just holds Jim closer and hopes it's enough.


End file.
